


Pull Him in Again

by Gonardo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety Disorder, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Physical Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Stiles, Selective amensia, Stiles finds his way home, Therapy, Work In Progress, broken relationships, feeling worthless, flash backs, learning to love again, so many feels, therapy animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6490177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gonardo/pseuds/Gonardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comes back home from being missing. Things are different. Friendships cracking under pressure. His old life with Derek all but a painful memory. Ones only he has.</p>
<p>The wolf knows him, but his mind is fractured. Derek hates how sad those eyes get when they look at him.</p>
<p>Is there any way these two can find their way back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Painful reunions

**Author's Note:**

> I gave myself the feels writing this, especially at the end of chapter. Dammit.  
> So work in progress on top of tidying up deputy for hire. Wish me luck.  
> Not beta read... So yeah. Mistakes are all mine.

This is all a bad dream, it just has to be, Stiles tells himself as he looks at Derek, who is standing across the room. He doesn’t remember him, and it hurts like hell. The thing was, he had disappeared some time ago, totally off the grid. His father never stopped searching for him, nearly working himself to death looking for him. His return had saved him from heading to the grave.

But Derek, whom had just proposed to him before Stiles had vanished, doesn’t know who he is. The wolf looks apologetic, green eyes pleading for him to understand. The sheriff had tried to warn him, but he is a stubborn man. Their place they had shared together, a homey apartment is gone, as is all their things. Derek had started fresh.

Peter had left in a rush, eyes wide, before his usual simpering smirk returned. Stiles took it as a bad sign, looks like he was right, once again.

“So, nothing?” Stiles asks, looking around the bare room. It has a basic couch, some small in table thing, and nothing else.

“No. I don’t-”

“It’s alright,” he lies. It hurts to see Derek flinch at the uptick of his heart. “Well, I’ll stop by tomorrow. Gonna spend time with Pops.” The wolf whines softly, then slowly stalks over to Stiles to rub his scent across him. “Try to get some rest big guy, alright?” He asks. His former lover has dark circles under his eyes, not to mention he’s looking a little pale.

“Yeah,” Derek promises. Stiles gives a wobbly smile in return before leaving.

Derek sleeps for thirteen hours straight that night, the smell of the unfamiliar human seeping deep inside.

*

“How’d it go son?” John asks him as he opens the front door.

“About as well as you’d expect,” Stiles frowns.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I tried to tell you-” the sheriff starts to say.

“I know you did, but I just didn’t want to believe it. That he couldn’t just forget me like that, you know?”

“Selective amnesia,” John replies. Stiles feels his eyebrows climb high on his forehead. “What, I have helped those in pretty stressful situations. Most of the time the brain just shuts down, erasing what had happened. Sometimes they don’t recall it at all.” The sheriff looks worried as he says it.

“Yeah. Guess my disappearance really did a number on him.” He cross his arms, feeling suddenly weary.

“Give him time, son. He’ll come around.”

“Sure,” Stiles mumbles, but he doesn’t think there’s a very good chance of that happening.

His father falls asleep during the movie, apologizing on his way to bed. “It’s alright Dad. I’ll be here in the morning.” That gets him a bear hug, and he leans in, tears in his eyes. He’s hit with sudden nostalgia, the smell of stale coffee and gun oil burning his senses.

“I love you so much, son.” Stiles feels his father shudder against him.

“Love you too,” he replies. Thinking of him and Derek got him through the darkest of times.

“Get some rest yourself, okay?” The sheriff pleads.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Truth be told the nightmares have come back, but instead of reliving it, he watches as Derek is the one being tortured. He’d rather go back to the old dreams, a thousand times over. Sucks when you finally get over being possessed, even killing someone, when suddenly you are afraid to close your eyes. Afraid of what looms in the darkness, lying in wait…

*

To say that things between him and Scott are strained would be a gross understatement. It started getting weird right before the abduction, in fact his dad had to call Scott to see if Stiles was with him. He thought a lot about them, being bros for so long in that place. And another one bites the dust, he thinks to himself.

His friend just stands there in the doorway, eyes wide. He comes off as unsure with his stance, and Stiles feels like shit because of it. Finds himself tired of this. So he shrugs, and nods towards the chair and sits on the bed, bouncing a little.

“I heard you made it back, came as soon as I could. There was this big emergency and they needed me back-” he stops mid sentence. “That sounded bad, didn’t it?”

“Whatever man.” Stiles curls into himself, feeling defensive.

“Glad that you are okay, we were all worried about you.” ‘Were’ as in past tense.

“And here I am. You can see for yourself that I’m fine.” He dismisses him.

“Call me if you need anything,” Scott tells him. He won’t, and they both know it.

“Sure thing.” Oh god, it hurts so much. So much.

-

His dad takes off from work early in the week. Stiles is relieved, and they go out for dinner. The waitress pats John on his shoulder, and he smiles softly in reply. She hugs Stiles close, and he holds tight. They know each other from high school. 

“Good to have you back,” she manages to get out.

“Great to be back. I'll take a BLT and some fries.” Looks over to his dad and waits.

“Same for me. Thanks Tracy.”

“Any time Sheriff.”

“So no burger for you?” John asks. Hell it was what the kid always ate when they went out.

“Not this time. Have enough grease with the fries and bacon. What about you? No cheat day?” Stiles asks before drinking water through the straw. Even after all this time the kid manages to make to look awkward. John chuckles, which causes Stiles to startle.

“You alright Dad?”

“Yeah. Just missed the little things.” Like his son’s mannerisms. “Besides I nearly put myself in a coma from engorging on donuts. Heard the good news, finally ate-” John spreads his arms out. “Body finally decided it was time for food. Melissa threatened to pump my stomach if I chose to do so again.” Waits a beat. “I haven't.” Stiles sighs in relief.

“Good to know Pops.”

They finish their food some time later, leaving Tracy a hefty tip. Both settle for watching the end of a ball game on TV. They fall asleep in the living room. Stiles sprawled out on the couch while John dozed off in the recliner, hands wrapped around his late wife’s pillow. He'd hold onto it when things got crazy, it was like he held a piece of her whenever he did so. Even go as far as talking out loud to the empty seat at the kitchen table. Imagining her response, what she would say if she were still there…

-


	2. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks to his therapist about life at home. Just how much has changed. He begins to wonder if they will ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I gave myself more Claudia Stilinski feels :(  
> Triggers for mild details of a panic attack near the end, and of his kidnapping.
> 
> Not beta read, mistakes are all my own.

“It all feels like a dream, to be honest with you.” Stiles tells his therapist. “Ever since that night. It's like I am a ghost and only my dad can actually see me.” Stiles fidgets with the end of his shirt, tugging at it. It gives away his nerves, discomfort.

“What do you mean by that exactly?” Mrs. Tucker asks gently.

“He is the only one who will acknowledge it even fucking happened,” Stiles all but shouts.

“That you were found across the ocean? Nude, dirty and bruised? Or that you can’t recall anything after you wake up from your dreams?”

“All of it. I made it back in one piece. Just wish they didn’t treat me like spun glass,” he mutters.

“Maybe they are trying to protect themselves. That does not excuse their behavior at all,” adding at Stiles’ disbelieving look. She folds her hands over the pen and tablet. He seems to settle somewhat after that.

The sun is still high enough in the sky to cast shadows in the room. Oddly enough he found it to be quite relaxing. So the tan walls left much to be desired, but it complimented the antique like furniture. The chairs are pretty much the most modern thing, plush and leather. He could easily fall asleep sitting there if he chose to. Right… The conversation at hand.

“But it did happen. No one found it odd that I just vanished? That my father and fiance couldn't reach me.” He takes a deep breath. “I wasn't running. I love him,” Stiles sobs out. “Even if he can't remember me. I still love him. He and my dad are what kept me alive.”

“Okay. Take a moment. I want you to visualize that feeling. If you can, if not, then what did it smell like? Was it warm? What textures do you feel?”

“It's cold. My clothes are sticking to my skin. Damp jeans aren't very forgiving, you know? There is laughter. It's Derek. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles or laughs. There is the sound of running water… The washing machine, the hose isn't connected right and the water keeps pouring.”

“Good. Instead of being angry, or put out the two of you laugh about it.” She keeps her voice steady.

“Yeah. I annoyed the hell out of him when we first met.” He smiles sadly.

“When did this take place?” The therapist tries to rein in those feelings.

“Just when we moved into our own place. School was hell. Then I went to the academy. Derek helped me keep it together.”

“Maybe now you could do the same. For him and your father. They need you just as much as you need them. Don't let what others think change that.” In fact she caught the one saying such thing outside his hospital room nonetheless. She wasn't gentle with said person either, apparently it worked. There hasn't been any more complaints about them since then.

Mrs. Tucker thinks back to the sessions she and Claudia had together. It was where the woman could fall apart. It began during the early stages of her disease that they had their meetings. Stiles reminds her so much of her old friend that it stings. She vows that she will help him in any she can.

-

Things don’t really get any better from there, in fact they stay about the same. There are more awkward run ins with those he knows, including Kira and Malia. He still hasn’t talked to Lydia since being back. Stiles can still feel the echoes of her screams in his very bones.

That is all he can remember, really. In a visual sense. Being deep underground, chained inside a steel cage. He had thought that the scream was for him, it wasn’t. His rescuer’s face still a blur, but Stiles will forever be thankful to said person.

Just thinking about it makes his ankle throb with phantom pains. Where the shackle had restrained him, keeping him in place. He really had felt like a wild animal for a while there, willing to gnaw off his own limbs to escape, or viciously attack those who kept him there.

Just something else to bring up to the therapist appointment coming up. He gets to the store, face starting to itch due to being out in public. The young man still having the habit of rubbing at his nose or scratching at his cheek. It’s like he’s allergic to interactions. Back then it was for different reasons, but it’s back now after finally being able to feel comfortable in his own skin. People look at him, most in pity, some even in horror. He takes it all in stride for the most part, only breaking down in a public bathroom once.

His face had been spread all over town after being found, the story even going international after being found overseas. He’ll never forget waking up to the feeling of being wrapped up in his father’s arms. If it had anyone else he would have fought them with tooth and nail, in fact he had attacked one poor guy. The young man had scratch marks down his forearms for his efforts. Once Stiles had calmed down he had apologized profusely. The nurse just smiled at him and brushed it off, he’d been there himself once.

The worst part of it all- was waiting for someone who never showed up. He kept looking at the doorway, leaning up on his elbows in anticipation for his lover to walk through the door. A rush of someone with inky black hair and shadows under rainbow hued eyes. The sensation of being held by arms so strong they could break him, but were always unfailingly gentle.

John looked so sad, eyes red rimmed, expression swimming with it. “He’s not coming son,” the sheriff had said.

“W-why not?” Stiles asks, confused. “Couldn’t catch a flight? W-where is he dad?”

“Son-” John begins but then is interrupted by the doctor. The sheriff gets called into the hallway after the doctor had cleared his throat.

“Now wouldn’t be a good time to tell him. I can’t imagine just how hard it is for you, but doing so could do more harm.”

“Well just what the hell am I supposed to tell my son? That the man he was to marry months ago isn’t coming? How do I explain that?”

“I wish I knew,” Dr. Brown states. “But please think of something to soften the blow.”

It was a week later that Stiles finally understood that Derek wasn’t coming. That alone sent him into a flying panic, enough of one where he started to shake. Managing to tug off wires and pull out the i.v. needle from his vein. It took a long time for him to calm down, and he gave a wounded sound once the tranqs took effect. John couldn’t help but feel as though he betrayed him somehow. Knowing full well of the hell Stiles went through after being possessed.

Stiles still doesn’t blame him for that, they did what they had to do to prevent him from hurting himself. None of it being intentional.

He grabs the items his dad needs at the local food stands, surprised at the list the older man gave him earlier in the day. Almost all of it fresh produce. “My stomach can’t handle spices any more son. Found out the hard way. This way we can make a milder form of it for dinner.” Stiles had hugged him in relief before pulling back to see John’s shocked expression.

“Love you dad,” Stiles tells him.

“Love you too son,” the sheriff replies. He really doesn’t know what he’d do without his father, hopefully he won’t have to worry about that for many years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story time. A little over a decade ago I was in the hospital in bad shape. I was starving myself, just in a bad place. While I am there, they run me some test before I go under a phsyc eval. Some bitch, not far from my room says 'maybe she is... Really, I'm in one of my lowest points in my life and you have to shit on me, after I admitted something that noone wants to be true. Fuck you.
> 
> I now refuse to go to said hospital while I am aware of my surroundings. Other shit went on too. Like questioning my medical decisions. I'd snap if anyone did that now. If I don't like how I'm being 'treated' you better believe I will let it be known.
> 
> Sorry for my rant, and my bad spelling. Don't let anyone kick you when you are down. Or even if you are standing, you don't need any assholes validating you.


	3. No Going Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decides to drop by to visit his nephew, and doesn't like what greets him. So he swallows his pride, well most of it anyway and hunts down the one person who can help.

“So,” Peter draws out. He’s standing next to the large window, staring out without seeing. It puts Derek on edge immediately. His uncle is wearing one of those deep V neck shirts, this time with dark slacks and black boots that are shining. The younger wolf rolls his eyes, if Peter were a woman, his tits would be out for display. But as it stands his freshly waxed pecs dance with movement from all the ‘subtle’ flexing he does. Thick neck, tan and stark in contrast to the light blue shade of the shirt. It’s nothing compared to the coldness of Peter’s icy blue eyes though.

“What do you want?” Derek snarks. His uncle startles at this. “What?”

“Nothing. Just haven’t heard that tone of voice in a while is all.”

“I haven’t got all day,” he bites out.

“Don’t you?” Peter asks.

“No,” Derek growls low in his throat, the sound more Alpha in nature. His nephew who had suddenly found his zen after contacting Talia is back to the way he was. Back when he and Stiles danced their way around one another. It actually hurts Peter seeing him regress. “Now if you don’t mind,” he seethes.

“When’s the last time he stopped by?”

“A few days ago,” Derek blanches at the question.

“That explains things.” Peter sighs long and deep. He wants to voice his opinion of the situation, but who knows where that would lead. Derek instinctually misses his mate, but he doesn’t fully understand the consequences. As soon as Stiles walked through the door, smelling of fragile hope and longing it changed things.

In fact after the young man had disappeared, Derek had gone nearly feral. The longer that he was gone, the more difficult it was to be around the fading scent of Stiles. They had to remove everything and the wolf had to be taken somewhere sterile. As in no remaining touch of his now missing fiance.

Peter takes a deep breath and plows ahead. “Have you thought about talking to someone?”

“I’ve had enough therapy for a lifetime,” Derek balks at the very idea.

“I meant,” Peter simpers, “to see if you could maybe recover some of your memories of Stiles.” He tacked on the young man’s name, knowing full well that some things should just remained buried. Derek shrugs. “Well at least think about it. Stranger things have happened.” Derek does the agitated whole body eye roll. Peter only smirks at the sight.

“You mean like you coming back from the dead?” He grits out.

“I meant you becoming a full wolf. But yeah, like that.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it, now leave.” Derek turns and walks away, letting Peter that he was done with this conversation.

“As you wish, nephew.” And like that he’s gone.

\- 

Scott is just finishing his shift when a familiar scent grabs his attention. He stills suddenly, fingertips itching to let claws pop out. The smell is not exactly pleasant, it has a distinct tell of rot, decay along with a tinge of wolfsbane. It makes him want to sneeze and gag all at once. Under that is a touch of Hale and raw power. Anyone who thought otherwise were only fooling themselves.

“So my presence is known?” Peter asks.

“You could say that,” Scott fights off the growl, keeping his voice even.

“I talked to Derek eariler,” he begins, knowing the true alpha would take the bate.

“And?”

“I need help, the pup has gone back to his old ways.” He sighs out, feeling the weight upon his shoulders. Yes, he may break the rules, but even he has a heart.

“What do you mean?” Scott hasn’t seen the beta in months, not since…

“He is keeping to himself, more than usual. I foolishly thought that with time it would get better. Apperantly I was wrong,” he allows himself to say.

“That’s never happened before,” the younger wolf bites out.

“After all this time Stiles has finally rubbed off on you,” he gloats.

“No, after nearly getting myself and my beta killed, things changed.”

“Theo?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I have eyes and ears, you should know better than anyone about that,” the mad man growls. Scott’s demeanor changes, fangs slipping past his lips. Peter tries his best to rein himself in, now is not the time. “Listen, we can get back to this some other time. I just got back from visiting, he’s open to therapy.”

“What kind of therapy?” The words lisp out.

“You know that thing that we do?” Peter lets claws pop out, and he drags it along the thick column of his neck, eyes glowing blue. The movement is strangely erotic, hard to look away from.

“No,” Scott denies.

“He needs help. Now I know that you are not cynical enough to say no, not yet at least. You are one of the few who believes in just about everyone. Forget your anger for a moment. Derek, he needs us. Just who helped you out when you first got bit?”

“Stiles!” The answer is automatic.

“Who else helped you, or at least tried. God knows just how hard headed you can be when you want,” Peter seethes. “Just who knew how to stop an alpha, about the hunters, and oh… the change?” He studies his claws, appearing bored.

“Derek,” Scott admits sadly.

“Exactly. So, are you willing to help me or not? Because you’ll also be helping Stiles. I don’t know if you have noticed but the young man smells of misery. Sadness and longing. He has his dad, that’s it. Everything he knew is gone.” Peter crosses his arms, seemingly ready to attack if need be, some things never change.

“Fine, but I’m doing it for them.”

“I’m not deluded enough to think that you are doing it to help me, I can smell the stench of mistrust from miles away kid.” Scott snarls at him. “Remember who made you,” Peter grits out.

“I made myself,” Scott denies.

“My bite made you what you are,” the older man argues. Then with a frightening grimace, Peter turns and runs, gone within a heartbeat.

Scott shakes himself, looking around him to see if the other man was truly gone before heading towards his truck. He had noticed just how sad the other man had smelled, it was heavy in the room, thick. The wolf had just thought- Well no going back now, time to get things rolling. His brother deserves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags may change going on, maybe even the rating, but for now I think most of it is covered. Let me know if you see any mistakes.


	4. Back to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has an odd request for Stiles, Stiles and Scott make time to talk, and Derek shows up at Stiles' home

Stiles is just coming out of the mall, walking towards his jeep when Peter comes up to him, out of nowhere. He may or may not curse and drop the bag he was carrying, a gift for his dad. “God freaking dang it, would you please stop doing that. One of these days I will die of a heart attack. Knew you always were in a rush to get rid of me,” Stiles grouses.

“If I wanted to get rid of you, I would make sure you’d disappear for good,” Peter greets him. A chill races down the young man’s spine. “Sorry, that was in poor taste. How are you?” The wolf sighs, wanting to roll his eyes at himself. He is not off to a good start.

“Uh, okay?” Stiles’ voice squeaks. His palms are sweating already, being in this situation reminds him of when Peter asked him if he wanted the bite. If the wolf were still able to offer, Stiles most likely would decline.

“Do me a favor, give me one of your shirts.”

“Um,” the young man stammers out.

“Stiles,” Peter demands. He is standing with his arms crossed, blue eyes burning bright. The human hisses, looking around to make sure no one could see it. “The shirt.”

“Fine, I got one in the back. Just to warn you it’s really rank, haven’t had the time to wash it yet.” The older man just nods his head along, nearly tearing into it with his claws. Hm, well that’s interesting, now isn’t the time to dwell on it, though. Peter feels his nose twitch at the strong scents wafting from the material. Stiles blanches. “Like I said, full of my sweat. It was like, a hundred out the other day,” he lifts his hands and waves them around to add to his point.

“I got that already Stiles,” Peter remarks. But the sweat isn’t what had his inner wolf whimpering. It’s the stench of loneliness, longing and desperation. It also smells like Scott, and the wolf growls at that. “Thanks.” The words have a bite to them.

“If that’s everything?” Stiles is in a hurry to leave.

“Yes, for now.” Peter nods his head and walks away with a confident gait. If Stiles wasn’t into Derek, in another life he could see himself having lots of hate sex with that man. He shudders at the thought before grabbing the bag and opening the door. It starts with ease, which still shocks him, and he makes it back home with no other incidents. What a weird day…

*

“Dude, I had such a strange day,” Stiles calls into the examining room.

“Dude, me too!” Scott calls right back. The wolf watches as Stiles eases into the room, shoulders having a harder line to them. There is still bursts of energy and nerves, but at the moment the human is at ease. They notice themselves falling into old habits at the same time, Stiles with a squint and Scott’s eyes big and round. The young wolf all but launches himself at his lifelong friend, tears in his eyes, high keening sound in his throat. He scent marks him with hurried movements, huffing out hot along the other man’s neck.

“I’m so sorry!” Scott mumbles out into Stiles’ shirt. “I failed you. I’m supposed to be the true alpha but I failed.”

“No, buddy. Don’t blame yourself, alright? These guys knew what they were doing.” Scott sobs at the steady heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Let’s not ignore each other or fight again,” Scott pleads.

“Dude, I don’t know if I can promise about the not fighting thing,” Stiles jokes. “But okay, we will make time for each other. Maybe one day a week, you set that up in your little date book,” leans back to see the wolf blush. “And we’ll be up in each other’s business in no time.” Gives the trademark wink.

“Yeah, I’ll move my schedule around. Catch you soon?”

“Sure thing buddy.” It leaves Scott feeling much better than it had in a long time.

*

Stiles and Scott fall into a pattern where they meet up once during the weekend, calling ahead of time if they won’t be able to miss it. They also call a couple of times during the week, Scott often times asking Stiles to look up something he missed. So far Scott has helped saved a mother and her kittens and two elder dogs. People know to bring him emergency problems after office hours. Sometimes having knowledge on hand saves four legged lives.

Peter returns with requests, strange ones, but Stiles hands over a spare pillow, used towel and dirty pj bottoms. The human is afraid to ask what he needs it for, and the older man just does the Hale eyebrow thing, so Stiles just hands it over. John crosses his arms over his chest, standing in the background, trying his best to be menacing. His son is grateful.

Somehow out of the blue Stiles gets two surprise visits. First Derek shows up, all soft looking. Hair longer, beard trimmed up nicely. Lips open up to show bunny teeth, and Stiles feels like he’s being punched in the stomach. The familiar sight making him dizzy with longing that is bone deep. The wolf walks in, thanking him softly, eyes roaming the walls. He studies the family photos one by one, an odd sense of deja vu hitting him. He hates not being able to recall it, but Stiles feels so familiar, his scent calling him from afar, calling him home.

There is a knock on the door and Stiles leaves him standing there, locked in his own mind. Chris Argent is there smelling of agony, dispair, blood, not to mention salt from sweat and shed tears. Derek’s hackles rise, and he’s across the room in an istant. Stiles does a double take, but manages to place his palms on the wolf’s chest. His eyes bleed blue, fangs dropping, and the young man feels the spine chilling growl.

The hunter doesn’t seem shocked by this, in fact he looks, relieved? What the hell, Stiles thinks to himself. “I’m sorry Stiles. I will stop by another time. Derek,” he nods his head before walking away slowly.

“Okay, that’s probably a good idea,” Stiles replies. Leave it to him to state the obvious. “Derek,” he turns his attention to his former fiance. “Calm down, he’s not here to hurt me, okay? Just trust me, you do trust me, don’t you?” The question hurts him, but it has to be asked.

Derek whines softly, eyes drawn to whiskey hued orbs. He leans in and inhales softly, before huffing out a breath. Instinct kicking in, slowly drawing the other man towards him, body hovering. “Yes,” he manages to lisp out. “Always.” He watches as a small sad smile breaches Stiles’ face.

“Well, not always. But that’s good to hear. I’m alright. So, uh, what are you doing here?”

“I-” Derek begins. “I followed your scent,” he simply states. Stiles’ brows furrow for a moment.

“My scent?” It takes a moment for realization to hit. Peter!

“What about him?” Derek asks. Stiles opens his mouth for a moment, gaping. “Stiles?”

“Uh, nothing?” He rubs his hands over his face. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Derek admits quietly.

“Lunch it is.” Weird day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writer's block, I really do.  
> Not beta read, all mistakes are all my own. Let me know where I goofed if you see it.


	5. Don't Call me Dude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes from a nightmare feeling unstable. His therapist suggests reaching out for help: enter local vet Scott McCall. Hey, Derek shows up at dinner, and it goes.. well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> orry it took a while to grind this out. This story kind of takes a lot of me, in an emtional sense, but it's something that I still want to do, you know? Not beta read, sorry for the mistakes. Please be patient with me.
> 
> I love animals and still say that they can read our moods. My cat stayed by my side when I was dealing with cramps. She usually runs around and makes some noise at the butt crack of dawn, but that day she laid above my head and slept by me. I felt guilty knowing my moods effect her so I took her outside for a quick walk, that seemed to get her energy back.
> 
> Derek seems like the type to like animals, in my personal head cannon the Hale family have this long history with dogs. They are kind and loyal and are related to wolves.
> 
> I am going to change the tags. The start of this chapter Stiles is going through a lot reliving all that shit through his dreams. He is tortured mentally as well as physically. Let me know if I forgot anything. Thanks for reading.

Stiles doesn’t even remember drifting off to sleep later that night, awake one second and then asleep the next. But it feels so real.

Lying there so thirsty it hurts his throat, body leaden with exhaustion and pain. Numerous wounds aching and oozing, even throbbing along with his thready heartbeat. He’s going to die, he wants to die. Anything is better than this. Waiting for it though, waiting is the worst. Just when you think it has you in its embrace, you get pulled back. Each time is excruciating, leaving him gasping with pained breaths.

He hears cruel laughter, it sounds like it comes from inside his head. Mocking him. Taunting whispers calling worthless, weak. Telling him that no one misses him, that his life doesn’t matter. Just toying with him brings them great pleasure. He starts to believe it. In the darkest moments, he knows that it's true, because no one has come for him. And no one is going to. The thought leaves him paralyzed with fear.

Moments from his life float through his mind. They start with Claudia, young and vibrant. Stiles refuses to focus on the bad. Next is when he met Scott, a kid with shaggy hair and deep brown eyes, not to mention a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. His mother, Melissa, patient and resourceful.

Lydia, the painful moments of following her around, her turning into his good friend. Jackson, Isaac and the others. Derek, oh Derek. Those whole body eye rolls, fierce brows and hollowed threats. The love of his life. Hopefully the man can move on and learn to love again, like he did with Stiles. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s him.

He thinks he coughs up blood, it’s hard to see through the pain. Hears himself wheeze through yet another breath, wishing it all would just… end.

*

Mrs. Tucker takes a moment to look Stiles over, sad to see the young man revert to his old self. Pale skin with dark circles under unseeing eyes. Chewing on his nails while jerking his leg up and down with swift movements. Something has happened.

“So,” she begins softly. Stiles jerks to attention, looking around with wild eyes. “Tell me what has happened since the last time we talked.”

“I don’t really know,” he stammers out. “It all started a few days ago.”

“Do you have an idea what could have triggered it?”

“No, I don’t,” he says sadly.

“That’s alright. Lets focus on how you feel instead. Is that okay?” He nods.

“I don’t know how to describe it other than it feels like there’s something inside and it wants to come out. Only I don’t want it to?” Stiles looks afraid, like he said something wrong.

“Ever have these feelings before?” The therapist just waits, hoping her posture gives off enough confidence in her patient.

“Yeah, but it hasn’t happened since Mom died. This time though, it’s much stronger. I get so frightened that my dad has to hold me down, and still I can’t stop it,” he hiccups the last word.

“Well, I think it’s time to look for some more options to help. Medicine might be one of those, if you agree to it. If not then there are some exercises, I often use them myself.” Sometimes the stories she hears follows her everywhere, even to sleep. It’s almost impossible not to feel something after such stories.

“Like what?” He asks.

“Breathing techniques, for one. As well as learning the difference between having a panic attack, and being triggered. You may suffer from post traumatic stress disorder. I’m hoping to help you find something that works for both.”

“I woke up feeling extremely worthless,” he utters out between nibbles on his nails.

“Do you believe that?” Mrs. Tucker waits.

“For the first time in a long time, yeah. I did.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Let me give you this,” she hands over a pamphlet. “It deals with negative thinking patterns. You once told me you loved looking up information. Do you think someone could help you with that?” It would help him having a person be there, build up his confidence.

“Yeah, me and Scott are talking again. We meet up for dinner.”

“Well, maybe you could meet up at your place and then you could bring it up. How long have you known him?”

“Since we were like four,” Stiles smiles softly. “We’re like brothers.”

“Do you think he would mind helping?” She knows that the young man could easily talk himself out of it.

“No,” he whispers.

“You won’t have to bring it up right away, maybe you could drop hints to see how he reacts. Go from there,” Mrs. Tucker says gently.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

*

He buys a notebook to write down his feelings and thoughts, it’s something he quit doing about a year and a half after his mother died. It didn’t feel right anymore, a lot of joy got sucked out of the Stilinski’s lives after Claudia’s passing. It’s really difficult at first, then it starts to flow. Derek is the first thing he mentions, and the story just builds.

He starts writing about how they first met, how gorgeous Derek was, is. How fucking creepy he was, though he helped in his own way. Stiles may have feared him at first, but stood up to him all the same. Hello, he was in his own house, in his father’s cruiser, he had every right! Anyway, then mutual respect, softer glances and words, touches here and there. That night he had thought that the wolf had died.

Stiles stops after five pages, blinking back tears from all he purged out. Next he texts Scott, asking what he is making for dinner, in which he replies ‘it’s a surprise.’ He hopes it’s a good one, because he needs something positive in his life.

 

He writes some things down, giving himself a breather before head diving into it. Scott wants him to meet up at the McCall house for dinner. Stiles folds the paper and places it in his front pocket before heading for the front door. 

The vet opens his own door and hugs him close and Stiles has to blink back tears, not knowing just how much he needed that hug until now. “Good to see you,” Scott tells him, a bit breathless.

“You just seen me last week,” Stiles squints at him. He gets a smile in return.

“Yeah, but with school, and other stuff,” Scott says softly.

“Well, I’m here now. Let's eat, I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry,” Scott teases.

“True.” Not like Stiles can deny it. He stops in his tracks once Derek comes into the living room looking fragile in his thumbhole sweater and jeans.

“Hi,” the wolf says shyly.

“Hey, Derek.”

“Oh, uh. This is my surprise,” Scott starts to explain. “Surprise!”

“Well, I’m surprised,” Stiles admits. They all walk into the dining room, the smell of food wafting towards the young man’s nose. It smells so good it nearly makes his stomach hurt. It also smells familiar. He spies a beef fajita on one of the plates, Derek’s favorite meals. One that his dad taught him to make early on. “That looks great. Let’s dig in.” Not the time for pining, he reminds himself.

Stiles honestly expects the dinner to be super awkward, or downright weird. It’s quiet at first, sure, but then Derek starts talking about helping Scott plant some herbs. Next the young wolf talks about animals needing homes, giving both Stiles and Derek the puppy dog look.

He stops himself from declining, maybe it’s just what he needs. Maybe a cat? That way if he and his dad were gone too long a kitty could use a litter box, he would feel guilty for leaving a dog inside or outside for too long. Besides his dad is allergic to them, though it has gotten better over the years since they started a new k9 unit. The dogs love the sheriff, and Stiles chuckled once he seen his dad return from work with hair all over his uniform.

“Not one word kid,” John warned him. The man is secretly in love with them, not that he could blame him really. Derek was more of a dog person, showing pictures of his pets, a golden retreiver from his childhood, a collie that belonged to his father. Dogs and wolves have this connection, Derek had explained.

“Got any cats that would make a good fit?” He asks out of the blue. Both Derek and Scott blink before turning to look at him. “What?” Maybe this could break the ice between him and Scott. Yeah, he is chickening out due to Derek being here, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

“You sure?” Scott asks, hope causing his eyes to shine bright.

“Yeah, why not? Cats are pretty cool, right?” Derek looks sad when he says this, and Stiles can guess why. “I love dogs too, but Dad still has sneezing fits and all.”

“Yeah, come by and visit with them.”

“Sure,” Stiles agrees.

“Could I come by and help walk the dogs?” Derek asks, a bit shy.

“That would be perfect, dude!” Scott beams.

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek rumbles, eye brows doing their complicated dance. Stiles coughs out a laugh, then bites his lip once the older wolf looks at him. Some things never change...


	6. Learning to walk again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles decides to move on with his life. He adopts a mother cat and fosters the kittens. Next he gets a job. If only the lingering sadness of his past would leave him be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time I finish this chapter. my muse be on a roll.
> 
> All mistakes are all my own.

Stiles pulls on a flannel over his faded t-shirt, something he hasn’t done since high school. His dad raises a brow in question and he just shrugs in return. “I am thinking about taking a trip with you, just in state. Something that we could afford. What do you think Pops?”

“Sounds good son,” John replies. His eyes are red and puffy from being tired after pulling yet another double shift due to Stiles moving back in. He’d gladly work doubles until further notice if it meant his son was happy and safe.

“I’ll put it on my to do list, right after finding a new job,” he grumbles. So far that has been a no go, but hopefully his therapist will give him the go ahead.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” Stiles fights back tears at that.

“Noted. I want to ask you a question. How do you feel about me possibly getting a pet.” He opens a box of cereal, pouring a bowl full before sitting down at the table.

“Well, I am okay with that. Can’t be any worse than last time, could it?” The sheriff’s voice drips with sarcasm.

Stiles spits out milk at the visual those words bring. “Mind your manners,” John chides him.

Okay, so right around the time Claudia got sick, John thought it would be a wonderful idea to get Stiles a dog. So the young kid could burn off extra energy with a furry friend hanging around. Except it didn’t go as planned.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Claudia gently tells her husband.

“But I thought it would work,” John says with a stuffy nose. She gives him the all knowing look. “I wanted it to,” he adds.

“It’s okay, Scott agreed to take the dog for now, with the approval of his parents of course. I’m sure that Stiles will understand.” With that John thumps his head back against the wall. “Now, be a good boy and take your medicine.”

“You’re so hot when you get into ‘mom’ mode.” That causes a hint of laughter, and a grunt from their son.

“Ew, gross!”

“Someday you will understand son, when you meet that special someone. You just know.” They look at one another, stars in their eyes.

“I’m gonna barf!”

 

“Yep, cat it is. You’re not allergic to them too, are you?”

“No, I’m not. So go ahead and bring one home. You are so cleaning the cat box.”

“Of course,” Stiles grumbles, pretending to be put out, but instead his heart quickens. Finally something else to focus on, it’s been a tough few days for everyone involved.

“Glad to hear it, now clean up after yourself,” John tells him over the day’s paper.

“Not my coffee cup, but yes I will take it to the sink and rinse it out,” Stiles mocks.

“Smart ass!”

“Takes one to know one,” his son quips back. The sheriff takes the now folded up paper and swats at the young man. “Okay, okay. Sorry for the attitude.” Leans down for a quick hug. “Get some rest old man.”

*

So what if he takes home a mother and kittens, she looked so sad laying there in her cage with four little furry bodies wriggling around. Stiles decides on the spot to foster the babies but keep the mother kitty. That gets him a grin and hug from Scott, and a thankful look from the mother. He is as careful as can be when he transports them from clinic back to his house. Opening the cage once they are set up in his bedroom. Big green eyes peer up at him, looking worried and maybe a little frightened. Eventually she stalks out, taking in the scent before her.

After a quick run through she takes the kittens and puts them into his closet. He thinks it’s a great choice, since it was his go to at times to escape the world. Once the family is settled in he brings her the food bowl. The water gets placed nearby as well.

“Alright Mama kitty, name to be determined. I’m sure you already know about kitty litter basics. At least I hope you do, because cat poop is not something I look forward to removing from my carpet.” Sighs out loud, thinking of what it looks like, him lecturing a mother and babies. “Anyway, one will be in here, and another in the bathroom. I will put up with stink for now. You are welcome to roam as you please, babies included once they are old enough.” He swears the cat’s eyes grow sad. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s for you, give birth and then say goodbye. I mean, we humans do it, but we usually do it in like 18 years, not 8 weeks. Maybe I can convince dad on keeping one of your little ones. But as it stands you are all safe, I hope you feel that way.” The mother meows softly in reply before grooming herself and the kittens.

“Great, glad we had this talk.”

*

His therapist gives him the okay and suggests a part time job. “Just to get into the swing of things again. See how it goes, don't worry about what's to come. Focus on today,” Mrs. Tucker advises him.

Stiles agrees and gets hired three days later at a local coffee shop. The owner is low on help and is dealing with a sick family. While Stiles hopes the man's wife and daughters heal up quickly, he's still thankful for the opportunity.

He delivers the drinks and muffins to the tables outside, cleaning up afterwards. All in all it gives him a good positive vibe.

Derek comes in two out of three days he's working that week, looking startled at first. The wolf nods his head shyly the first day before ordering a drink. Stiles pausing while cleaning up a sugary mess left by a young boy. His former fiance orders his exact favorite. Chills race down his spine and tears burn his liquid amber eyes.

He is still blinking them away while Derek is bringing the cup up to his lips. He let's out this pleased sound. Stiles wants to sob for a completely different reason this time. Trying his best to block out the mental images of them tangled together, or Stiles trailing down Derek’s body. He balls up the cloth he'd been using in frustration.

His boss interrupts his internal agony by telling him that he is due for his fifteen minute break. Stiles all but runs next door to escape the situation, leaving behind an exasperated boss and a very confused wolf.


	7. Coffee and Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Stiles is making some progress. If only it wasn't followed by a break down. But hey, therapy cats.
> 
> He doesn't like Chris and Peter suddenly showing up at his job. Something feels.. off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my glob. I had the first half of the chapter typed up then fucking writers block happened. Boo!
> 
> Not beta read. See any blunders let me know.
> 
> I think Stiles caught my bitch mode. Eh.

Stiles finally has a pattern down after having something other than himself to focus on. Making friends with a kid while working, and he melts every time that youthful voice lisps out his name, in which he indulges him with spiderman comics from his own childhood, always returned with a polite ‘thank you.’

He and Scott still meet up, though they had to skip one of their weekly dinners. One thing that is strange, well two, but he'd never admit the second one outloud. Chris Argent is stalking him. Not like the early days where the whole family minus Allison stalked the wolves. Stiles shudders at the memory of being caught up in that fiasco.

The hunter ends up driving past his usual haunts, stopping by for coffee with a smile, not to mention he has been watching Derek too. That has his hackles raised at the very thought of it, and was about to go on the attack when he had seen Peter make his way over. There the hunter and wolf stood under the streetlights, the silver haired man holding up something for the other man. Peter gave this bone chilling growl, even going as far as lunging at Chris’ throat. The hunter had to remind him that they were on the same side.

Very strange indeed.

*

“Hey kiddo,” John greets his son with a smile. He gets a grunt in return. “What’s wrong? Still plan going on that trip we have been planning?” The sheriff would not blame him if it fell through, Stiles is still dealing with a lot of things right now.

“What?” He turns to his father, clearly half asleep. The sheriff going on high alert. “Oh, uh yeah,” he manages to get out before yawning loudly. Stiles scratches at his scruff, too tired to shave the past couple of nights.

“What's going on?”

“One of the kittens has a nasty cold. I had to separate him from the others in hopes of containing it. So far it's been clear on that front. Also I have to bottle feed the little bugger. Mama has her hands full,” he admits.

“So that's who has been meowing at night?” John asks gently.

“Shit! Sorry about that Pop,” he grits out.

“It's alright son. I will claim feeding duty in the morning. In fact I will start tonight, I don't go in until tomorrow sometime in the evening. That will give you plenty of time to sleep before your shift, then you take over so I can crash a bit. Come on, give me my grand fur child,” John holds out his hands.

“You're so weird Dad,” he mutters.

“Says the one who flashed half the neighborhood while streaking through the brand new sprinkler system.” Stiles blushes hard at the memory.

“Dad! You promised you wouldn't bring that up, besides I was like 2,” he argues weakly.

“More like seven, and while you had your new swimming trunks on, Claudia didn't tie them tight enough,” John says with a chuckle.

“Ugh!”

“At least I never told this to Derek,” the sheriff protests.

“Well that's surprising.” John watches as his son stumbles to the couch, passing out within moments. He can only chuckle before heading upstairs for the kitten. It is crying out already, probably wondering why dinner was so late. Soon its followed by a sneeze.

The sheriff grabs for the tiny thing, one of the cat's eyes is half shut. He looks around for the supplies, gathers them before making his way down stairs. “Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you.” The kitten has since then crawled up his chest, nuzzling into his neck before giving a soul shaking sneeze. He grimaces some, but makes sure the small bundle of fur gets his medicine first thing.

*

Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night, out of the blue. He’s having one of his attacks, brought on by a smell. His stomach revolts and he manages to make it to a trash can before he heaves. Sobbing loudly on the kitchen floor as adrenaline surges through his body. Sheriff is there in an instant, medicine in hand. Stiles grimaces as he manages to swallow it dry.

He cries his eyes out as his dad wraps his arms around him, soothing him with gentle touches and words. It takes a while for him to finally come crashing back, and when it does Stiles is left with a dull headache and a bitter taste in his mouth. So much for progress.

*

He manages to fuck up four orders and spills his own drink he was making himself, three times. Three! Even though his dad took over kitten duty, and helped calm him down last night sleep eluded him last night. And just as Stiles was about to drift off he swore he heard a dog whine all through his vague dreams.

His boss gives him the stank eye once Argent walked in, so he takes it upon himself to take the former hunter’s order. He is met with what starts off as a smile that ends up looking like a grimace.

“The usual?” Stiles starts to take out a large cup.

“Make that an extra please.” Chris hands him a large bill. “Keep the change.”

“Sure,” Stiles agrees. Could feel his eyes bulge once he spies a 5 in front of a zero and not a 2. Well that's an extra thirty plus in his pocket. Gas money for the trip is a go. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tries to wave at the owner only to get another dirty look for his trouble.

Stiles internally wonders what that is about, but tucks it away for later. Peter walks in right before Stiles’ shift ends. His electric blue eyes shine and he gives a grin. He must know something and isn't going to divulge whatever it is. That's nothing new.

“What can I get you?” His voice cracks some. The air around them thickens with tension.

“The sweetest and strongest coffee you have.” Peter smirked before leaning forward. Stiles’ nostrils flare, as a vaguely familiar scent hits him. But before he can pull the memory into focus, Peter swims back into view.

“Coming right up.” Muttering to himself as the machine whirs, knowing full well the wolf could hear everything over the sound. Just once he'd like a break from the past.

“Thank you,” Peter purrs. Stiles squints at the man, standing there in yet another ridiculously deep v neck shirt. Even on a man it still screamed obscene. There is a sheen of sweat over the tanned pecs, which isn't that startling. The wetness above the man's lip is telling. The former feral alpha never had a tell before. He's definitely hiding something. And unless it directly affects him, he is out. He just hopes Derek isn't anywhere near the blast zone.


End file.
